19-I-2017.
Went to the empty house alone in the morning. Took the paperwork (funeral workorder for the diggers) then went to tell them where to dig. One of the guys was the nephew of dad's neighbor, the two of them paved our driveway five years ago, but I didn't recognize him until the funeral itself.
Then went to order the wreath and flowers, and back to the house again to get the gun. Not that I need a gun, but I'm simply not comfortable with leaving it there. A funeral notice on the gate, specially if enough people know the guy was living alone, is an open house invitation. The last thing I need is that someone steals it, and then the police just won't mind that there are no fingerprints on it. Back in 1976 when a cop was killed with a 9mm, this pistol was taken to the police for a "technical check", and I'd bet my beard that it was fired and the bullet imprint taken. So I packed it and the two or three packages of ammo in a plastic bag and took it home.
We said that we won't hold a reception at home but also knew that people will come regardless, specially the relatives. Of which there were just two (uncle Staja and auntie Janja), the other two (from Vršac) were coming by bus. So after about one hour I went back to pick the wreath and just when I got into the car to leave, Slavica called - I should get some fresh pastry, mineral water, orange juice (gassed, that is) and plastic cups, the rest is arranged already. The slowest part was the cups, the guy had to count them as the package wasn't whole, and he was slow and had thick glasses.
Paid Slavica 40000 and her assistant 10000 - and then she said she would have charged 32000 for herself and 8000 for him. So I guessed well. After seven years at home I'm still often clueless about ongoing rates or expected prices, sometimes I can't even guess. Did this time.
I assigned Arpi to be my driver, handed him the key to saxo. I assumed I'll have to have a drink, felt like I'll need one anyway. The house was getting filled with mostly neighbors - anyone else would go straight to the cemetery, and these two from Vršac would do likewise, having just about 15 minutes from the bus to there, which is just two blocks away.
She stayed with Go, Neša and Anita but came to the funeral. There were several surprise appearances, people I wouldn't expect to come. Some neighbors I haven't seen for decades, Zina came with parents, Nena and Rile from the shop (he actually gets his groceries at the shop dad used to frequent, where Paja put the notice), Dragana brought the expected Bajlo, Staša but also unexpected Biljana and Jozda(!). Among friends, Veca came, of course (though couldn't sit out the whole lunch, had a staff meeting), Vanji was inevitable, dad's hairdresser with her daughter also came. And practically the whole neighborhood (except Kale and Sejini, dad severed any ties with them - he didn't even appear when mom died, and Šuca Sejin did but in shorts, which dad took as serious disrespect). Lena and Milan came with their new car.
The funeral itself... eh, it's hard. Luckily, I took the priest's drone as welcome background noise, and heard only bits and pieces of his advertising (as usual, not a single word about the deceased, only praise for their imaginary friend, and that not even in any kind of polished verse, but rather the sentences without any rhythm, broken into verse at arbitrary places, sounded like a sixth grader's attempt at poetry, which would at least be sincere).
The two cousins from Vršac came when we were leaving the cemetery - their bus broke about 80km from here, and they had to wait for a replacement. Went to kantina, aka debelamačka and had that daća. Not everybody from the funeral came here, as usual, but my guesstimate of thirty was very close - we had 29 people at the table. I put Vanji and Paja together, in case the latter wanted to inherit the business of selling brandy to neighbors. He agreed two days later.
We split the relatives who had to go by bus - Lena and Milan took uncle Staja and auntie Janja, while we took these from Vršac, and dropped them all at the bus station. Then we got home, Arpi returned the keys and we just sat and talked. And drank. Dad's last big camping was over.
The following days I took to carrying things over, whatever may be valuable - the teevee, computer, whatever I found. The teevee eventually went to Arpi, as Višnja took theirs. The rest of brandy, some single digit of liters, went to Paja, along with the chugging hose, when he and Vanji made the deal. These days Vanji dropped by, probably when delivering the first batch, so we cleared dad's piggy bank for brandy, paid him whatever amount I found there (perhaps around 10k dinars). He said „I don't calculate“, to which she corrected him with „you mean you don't count“... because he can be an even worse linguistic pest than I, but in hungarian. Where I already won a bet on him, as he was convinced that the nb transformed long ago, serbian way, into mb (so he bet on külömbség, not különbség), and now even she topped him with this - he translated számol as calculate, not count. It does have both meanings in hungarian, but this was about not counting the money. Then we sat and talked, mostly about making brandy, production tricks... ouch, as is watching a show not recommended in presence of a director, so is talk of brandy with a chemical engineer. He went on about ketones and aldehydes... gimme a break, here, sit down, drink a few and point your finger at any ketones or aldehydes that offend you.
Luckily, we didn't see him since.
Mentions: Anita Jennifer Berger (Anita), Arpad Gunaroši (Arpi), auntie Janja, Biljana Grgurević, daća, David Jamaček (Kale), debelaMačka, Dragana Vitas (Dragana), Gorana Sredljević (Go), Jelena Sredljević (Lena), Jovan Zdanić (Jozda), Kantina, Milan Nastić, Nenad Bajlo (Bajlo), Nenad Berger (Neša), Nevena Žaja (Nena), Paja Čkaljević, Rista Stančulov (Rile), saxo, Sejini, Slavica Istra, Stanoje Serdarević (Staša), uncle Staja, Vera Stojanović (Veca), Vilmoš Baranji (Vanji), Višnja, Zina, in serbian